The Russians Are Coming, wait, they got captured
by willwrite4fics
Summary: Entry for the Speedwriting Challenge:Code writers. It's a mission! Can they save the Russian agent from the SS? I used all 13 lines from the challenge, in order. Thank you to Bits And Pieces who inspired me to enter in the last days before the deadline. I hope that you enjoy!


Posting for the Speedwriting Challenge: Code Writers. All normal disclaimers apply. I'm sure everyone can spot the code lines as they appear. I put _**all thirteen lines**_ in, in the originally posted order... because I'm OCD like that. Big thank yous go out to my friend River who let me bounce ideas off her and my beta TinySprite who puts up with me. Also, this is all the fault of Bits And Pieces who made me want to do the challenge. Thank you all!

Hogan and his Heroes have a mission. Can they achieve the objective? Read and discover for yourself.

* * *

Newkirk was driving a truck. Considering he was a POW, he really shouldn't be driving a truck but right now, he was a German civilian with his German civilian friends riding along as they did German civilian things. While looking very innocent and not like POWs. Hogan sat in the passenger seat looking more like an officer than a German civilian. The truck rattled over a particularly badly broken section of road, which was actually caused by the same POWs earlier in the week sabotaging it to slow down supplies headed for the Russian Front.

Cursing in particularly non-German sounding French came from the back of the truck and one of the very-much-not-a-POW-in-disguise German civilians poked his head out to complain. "Look, I know the road is full of potholes. I helped to set the explosives which made them. But really Newkirk! Could you possibly try not to hit every single one?"

"Ja ja... be quiet." Newkirk kept his voice to his favorite heavily accented gravely German voice. "Try not to be bounced out of the truck, dummkopf!"

"Oh shut up." LeBeau disappeared again, although Newkirk could clearly hear him complaining to Carter in the back. Hogan exchanged a look with Newkirk and they both rolled their eyes.

They'd arrived at the SS Headquarters rather more quickly than Newkirk really wanted, to tell the truth. He would have preferred they be back in camp, actually. The Underground giving them a mission to go rescue a Russian agent from SS Headquarters was ridiculous. But some days, he'd swear that the more impossible the mission sounded, the more likely Hogan was to take it on. The Gov'ner really needed a hobby. Preferably a hobby that didn't lead to POWs-disguised-as-German-civilians getting shot.

The Heroes were using a thin disguise of being workmen to gain entrance to the place. One of the Underground had managed to sabotage some of the wiring to the lighting in the offices and Hogan decided the crew could pass as electricians. Newkirk had very helpfully pointed out that none of them knew a thing about electrical work. Hogan had(rather unhelpfully) pointed out that they wouldn't actually be repairing any of the electrical issues. He'd gone on to point out that they knew a lot about rescuing Allied agents.

To Newkirk's surprise, the stupid idea worked to get them into the offices. All four of them trooped into the inner offices and found them mostly deserted due to the electrical issues. Hogan smirked at him. "Oh ye of little faith. Didn't I tell you we would get in?"

Newkirk sighed at him. "Getting into SS 'eadquarters is easy. Getting out, with a prisoner, that's going to take a bit more doing." He looked around the room full of desks and tables. He would have expected a bare room of utilitarian desks and tables, but this room was decorated nicely, with shelves of books and vases of flowers. There were even potted plants on each desk and bright little fish in bowls.

"Don't worry, I have a brilliant plan." Hogan began to shuffle through the files in one of the desks. "While we're here though, see what kind of intel reports you can find. It's not often we get into the War Room of the SS Headquarters. Use the time wisely." He nodded to the corner. "Newkirk, use the magic fingers and get in the safe. LeBeau, Carter, find anything related to our Russian agent. He was carrying some coded documents that we can't risk the SS keeping."

Carter began checking the cubbyholes at the second desk, carefully replacing things that looked routine. "Sir? What's the plan? I mean, we're in the War Room, but we have to get to the holding cells and those are pretty heavily guarded."

Hogan took a deep breath. "Well, my first brilliant plan is to think up a brilliant plan." All three men turned to look at Hogan with varying degree of disbelief. "Hey, come on guys, it's best to go one step at a time." He moved around the end of the desk.

Carter held up a handful of memos, a map and a thicker document. "Colonel Hogan! I think I found it. It looks like Russian writing to me. Some of it is in English too." He held up some small slips of paper. "Look at these little notes. They say weird things. This one says 'E.T. Phone home.' and this one says 'E.T. Make borscht.' What's borscht? Is that like wienerschnitzel?"

"Non." LeBeau came to look at the notes. "Borscht is a Russian beet soup." He flipped through the papers quickly. "Mon colonel, these are probably some sort of code." He handed them back for Carter to bundle up into one of his jacket pockets. Going to the safe, he bent over Newkirk's shoulder. "Don't you have it open yet? I thought you had magic fingers?"

Newkirk frowned. "Leave off, LeBeau. I can't 'ear the tumblers, the lock is nearly new." He continued to press his ear to the safe's door. There was nothing he hated more than not being able to pick a lock or open a safe. LeBeau made a few choice remarks and Newkirk snapped angrily at him. "If you think you can open up this safe faster, 'ow about you show us all!?" His cross tone was born of frustration with the safe but LeBeau was always ready to argue back at him.

Hogan spoke up from across the room. "Gentlemen, you can't fight in here! This is the War Room! For shame!" His humor had real annoyance underlying it and Newkirk and LeBeau shut up rather than test his temper. LeBeau left the Englishman alone to work on the safe and went to check on Carter who was trying to pry open a desk drawer.

Carter finally popped the drawer open, almost falling over the chair as the latch snapped. "Whoa!" He knocked into LeBeau.

LeBeau grabbed at some shelves but couldn't halt his fall. One flailing hand knocked a glass bowl with lilies in it off the lower shelf and he had to juggle it to keep it from smashing into the floor. Most of the water and all of the flowers spilled over him. He stood up slowly, turning to glare at a very contrite Carter. "I'm going to murder you one day, Carter."

Hogan sighed at them and went to check at the door to make sure they weren't overheard by anyone. This side of the building might be nearly deserted but it wouldn't take much bad luck to have them discovered.

Carter was putting the glass bowl back onto the shelf and trying to arrange the flowers to look undisturbed. He smiled at the wet Frenchman. "Good thing it wasn't the goldfish! It would be pretty obvious if the goldfish didn't have any water in it's bowl!"

LeBeau glared at one of the little orange fish anyway. "It's probably a Nazi fish."

"Hey! Fish have feelings too." Carter checked the fish just in case.

"Ah! Got it!" Newkirk waved his hands in a flourish and opened the safe door. "Ta-daa!" The three friends all eagerly looked into a completely empty safe. "Oh. Well. Can't always hit a jackpot, you know."

Hogan suddenly spoke up from near the door. "Newkirk, I think I have the brilliant plan." He turned with a SS General's uniform in hand. "You're getting a promotion."

"That's just blooming charming, Colonel. Why's it gotta be me?" Newkirk didn't look entirely thrilled with the idea.

Hogan handed over the uniform. "It's in your size and you have the best German accent. Get changed while I go see if I can find a uniform for me."

* * *

Hogan came back from a quick scout, now dressed in a sergeant's uniform and carrying a second one in his arms. "Carter, this should fit you. LeBeau, you head to the truck and pull it around to the front when you see us come out. Newkirk, how did that general's uniform fit on you?" Hogan frowned at him. "I see you've managed to get your shirt off. That's a great first step, but I did hope you'd at least get to your pants by now too." His sarcasm almost covered up the annoyance. "Is there any hope you'll manage to get changed into the uniform today or shall we plan on an overnight stay?"

Newkirk waffled. "Look, Gov'ner, it's not that I don't trust in your plan..."

LeBeau scoffed at him. "You never trust the plan. Like you say, you're a coward. You would prefer to be back in the camp, being a nice safe prisoner."

"That's not fair, Louis! I've done plenty of brave things too, saved your bloody life a few times if I remember right." said Newkirk hotly.

"Guys!" Carter stopped dressing in his own uniform. "Guys, stop fighting! We're going to get caught if you two don't stop fighting with each other. I don't understand why you two even bother being friends if you keep having these fights."

LeBeau shrugged at him. "Of course we're friends, that's why we can fight all the time and never really get mad at each other." He grinned. "If we don't go crazy once in a while, we'll all go crazy. Wait until you've been in a prison camp as long as we have. You'll go crazy a lot too."

Newkirk snorted, already sliding the fancy uniform jacket on and straightening the tie carefully. "Carter doesn't 'ave very bloody far to go to reach crazy." He shrugged his shoulders to settle the jacket into place and twisted his neck some. "Okay, so let's go pretend to be SS troops." He dropped his voice and took on his German accent. "I vant the Russian scum brought to me... immediately!"

Hogan checked Carter and Newkirk's uniforms quickly. "Okay. If we screw this up, that Russian agent is dead and we probably won't be in great shape either. Newkirk, are you over being scared now?"

Newkirk nodded calmly, brushing his sleeves needlessly. "Yes, of course. I'm too frightened to be scared." He took a breath and spoke in a stage whisper to Carter. "It's the simple things in life you treasure. Things like being not-dead for instance. I like being not-dead."

Hogan grinned. "You'll be fine. LeBeau, get the truck in place, we shouldn't take very long. Let's go, gentlemen."

* * *

All three stood trying to look impatient and in Newkirk's case, angrily impatient. He tried pacing a bit to make the SS guard at the front desk nervous. He had demanded the Russian agent be turned over to him at once and with sufficient threatening of the poor corporals on duty, one of them had caved and gone off to bring the prisoner to them. It seemed to be going entirely too easily. Where were all the SS officers? Newkirk turned on the guard suddenly. "Vhere are all your officers? I have never seen such lax security! It is a good thing that I came to take custody of this prisoner!"

The corporal stammered in a panic. "They were called away to deal with possible sabotage at the hotel, herr general!"

"Vhat sabotage? A likely story!" Newkirk went back to pacing but it was only another two minutes before the second corporal reappeared. He had a very pretty young woman in tow. "Ahhh it is about time! If you had taken even one more minute I vould send you to the Russian Front." He eyed the young woman who glared defiantly at him, tossing her dark hair. "Sergeant Hoganmueller... take her to the truck." He gestured imperiously. Hogan seemed displeased to find their agent was female. Newkirk himself was quite happy to watch her walking away down the hall. He turned back to the SS personnel. "Danke, corporals. I shall return later to deal with the officers in charge here. And trust me, heads will roll!" He swept away following Hogan and Carter with their prisoner secured between them. Their 'prisoner' was wearing a shapely dress and suddenly all the danger of Hogan's crazy plan seemed completely worth it. Newkirk had always been partial to ladies that were bold and brave in the face of danger. And a nice set of legs didn't hurt matters.

Once they'd exited the building successfully, LeBeau drove right up to the sidewalk and Hogan handed the Russian agent up into the rear of the truck. After one last glance around, Newkirk took a deep breath and climbed into the back of the truck while Carter got into the front seat. Hogan made sure to keep a firm hold on the lady until he got the flaps of the canvas truck cover closed securely. "Okay, Newkirk, get these handcuffs off the lady please."

Newkirk dropped his German accent and reached for his lockpicks and her wrists. "Right-o Guv'ner. Give me your 'ands, miss."

She looked bewildered but let him work on the cuffs. "You are not truly SS! You are not even German! Who are you? You don't have a key to these?"

Hogan caught her attention. "Now, SnowFox, right? The Underground Resistance sent us to break you out of SS custody." He held up the packet of documents from the offices. "I believe these are yours?"

She snatched at the papers. "Da! Those are mine!" She suddenly frowned at her bare wrist and looked down at Newkirk who unclicked the second cuff. "You did have a key?"

He smiled and wriggled his fingers at her. "Oh with me magic fingers, you never need a key, luv." Newkirk tilted his head and gave her his best smile but she was already unbuttoning her blouse and he got an alarmed look. It was one thing to flirt but there was proper etiquette. Ladies did not suddenly begin undressing themselves. "Uhh 'ere now, what are you doing?"

She gave him a look that said 'not what you're hoping' and reached to tuck the map and the coded papers into a hidden pocket in her bra. "Specially sewn for Russian undercover agents. It was invented by a little old lady from Leningrad." She reached in the other side and pulled out a small flask. Unscrewing the top, she took a long drink. "Vodka." She shrugged at their stares. "It gets wery cold in Leningrad."

Hogan cleared his throat and she refastened the top of her blouse carefully. "Yes, well, we have to get you back to Russia and you can congratulate the little old lady in person. Where do we take you?"

She pointed at the handful of notes Hogan still clutched. "The pick up location should be on one of those." Taking them, she began to shuffle through them one by one.

The truck stopped and Carter climbed in the back with them. "We're clear of the city, sir. Boy, I never expected for Snow Fox to be a girl!" He got three rebuking stares. "Sorry. But I didn't!" LeBeau joined them. "LeBeau did you expect a girl agent?"

"Non. But it was a very pleasant surprise, non?" LeBeau smiled up at her. "I saw a note that said you make borscht. I bet it is the most flavorful soup ever." He flirted outrageously.

She hummed absently as she pulled out the little slip of paper with the enigmatic 'E.T. Phone home.' message. "I need a candle." She smiled back at LeBeau though. "And my borscht is from my great-grandmother's recipe and it would be the best soup you have ever tasted."

Newkirk snorted, rather disgusted at the flirting he was watching. Mostly he found it disgusting only because it wasn't him that was flirting. "Oh great. They're going to start trading blooming recipes." He leaned towards LeBeau. "Louis, I think this is the beginning of a beautiful friendship."

LeBeau didn't even look away from the young woman's face. "Friendship is for pen pals. This is romance, mon ami." He sighed happily.

Newkirk made one last attempt. "LeBeau, don't you think that Marya would be upset if she knew you were flirting with another Russian agent?"

The Frenchman waved his hand at Newkirk. "Marya understands love is fickle!"

Carter wedged himself back into the mix of people. "I found a candle stub. Newkirk has a lighter, why do you need a candle? And what is 'ET' anyway?" To anyone else, it would look like he was trying to flirt with her himself. His friends knew it was Carter's nature to be helpful.

She smiled at him warmly. "Is me. Evia Terekhov, see? Is my initials." Evia waved the note under Carter's nose as Newkirk lit the candle. "Smell that?" She held the paper over the tiny flame with great care.

Carter frowned. "Lemon?"

Hogan finally spoke up himself. "Lemon juice, the oldest invisible ink ever. You didn't really use lemon juice to hide an important pick up location?" He was beginning to sound outraged.

"Don't be silly, of course not." She watched as the letters began to appear. "See? It is merely another code. It says to listen to radio. It gives the channel. Does this truck have radio?"

"Yes... which channel?" Hogan still sounded a little disgruntled at the idea of using lemon juice. It just seemed so... amateur. Taking the candle from her, he handed it back to Carter. "Put the candle back. Then get the radio." They set up the radio in the back so they could stay out of sight. Once they'd tuned into the right channel, they found a serial radio program on. "Did you get the right channel? This is just a drama."

"Hush, I must listen." They all listened as a rambling story was read in rather bored sounding voices. The plot seemed to involve a young man looking for his lost love but it was more of a list of places she hadn't been found than a real story. Finally the young man gave up and went back home to die of a broken heart.

Carter looked outraged. "That's the worst drama I've ever listened to. I mean, he just walked all over to different places and kept saying she wasn't there! That's hardly a story at all! Does it continue tomorrow? Does he ever go and find her later? It said he died. He should find his love and they should live happily ever after. Whoever wrote this episode should die!" He shifted uneasily. "Well, not die, not really. But they should feel really really bad!" Even with his backpedaling, Carter looked guilty about being so harsh with the unknown author.

Their Russian agent patted him reassuringly. "Is not real story, is code to say where we go, da?"

Carter brightened immediately. "Oh! Well, then that's fine."

Hogan put a hand over his face. "Oh good, Carter approves of the coded program the Russians came up with. I was worried." He couldn't help smiling and shaking his head when Carter seemed pleased instead of hearing the sarcasm in his tone. Turning to Evia, he spoke with some impatience. "So do you know where we have to take you now?"

"Da, of course! Is simple! I go to North side of river, next to bridge and they pick me up. Is simple! See?" Her smile made Hogan a little bit exasperated but LeBeau sighed happily.

Hogan gave the Frenchman a little push. "Okay Romeo, get back behind the wheel. Let's get the lady to her meeting spot before the real SS decide to give her an extended stay."

"Oui, mon colonel. It is not far." LeBeau kept his eyes on her until he was out of the truck bed. The old vehicle cranked up and began it's clattering way along the road.

* * *

Soon enough, they had reached the river and LeBeau stopped the truck in the woods within a mile of the bridge. Hogan pointed. "Okay, there's the bridge, and we're on the North bank, so that should be the pick up point. Let's get you down there." He turned to his men. "Everyone keep an eye out, there could be patrols. You know how nervous Germans are about their bridges."

Newkirk smiled fondly at Carter. "Well, the few bridges our favorite pyromaniac has left standing, that is."

Carter beamed happily but then looked worried. "Sir? Should we change out of the SS uniforms?" He tugged at the coat he still wore.

Hogan thought it over for a few seconds. "No, if we do run into a German patrol, they won't fire on SS troops. With three of us in uniform, no one should stop us."

LeBeau pointed at Newkirk. "Mon colonel, how will Newkirk explain himself? SS generals do not normally roam about the countryside. What would a SS general be doing in the woods?"

Newkirk answered him in a thick German accent. "Vhat would a SS General be doing in the voods? Vhatever he likes, of course!"

Rolling his eyes, Hogan pushed the Englishman out of the back of the truck. "Less jokes, more walking."

Newkirk's plaintive voice came from outside the canvas. "Everyone's a critic."

Spreading out, the group made their way slowly down towards the river, watching for German patrols. When they reached the water's edge, Evia suddenly pointed. "There. There is small cave behind the rocks. That is where we should be waiting."

LeBeau pointed across the water. "Look, that's a small boat. Is it the right boat?"

She smiled as she shielded her eyes to look across the water. "Da, is Russian agents on boat." She turned to continue around the rocks. "Come, we will wait in cave until they arrive."

All of them rounded the rocks and came upon a crowd. Hogan and his men lifted their weapons at the same time as the crowd did theirs. "Easy, everyone relax, we wouldn't want to shoot any of our Allies, right?"

Evia rushed forward to embrace one of the strangers. "Boris! Is really you!"

LeBeau sighed. "Love is so easily lost."

Carter reached to pat him. "Well, hey, maybe it's not all lost, that could be her brother!"

The couple began to kiss passionately and Newkirk coughed discreetly. "I don't think that's 'er brother, Andrew."

Making a face, Carter turned away. "Well, I should hope not!"

With the obviously friendly reunion of Evia and Boris, the rest of the strangers relaxed and Hogan motioned for his own men to lower their weapons as well. One of the older men walked forward to shake Hogan's hand. "Tovarich, you are not real SS, then?"

Hogan smiled. "Nyet. No, we're Allies. American, French and English."

The man laughed heartily though he kept his voice soft so as to not carry for any distance. "It seems we have representatives from all the Allies, da?"

Carter spoke up brightly. "We don't have any Australians!"

Newkirk huffed slightly. "That's the last thing we need, mate. Aussies are weird."

Carter tried again. "What about Canadians?"

LeBeau protested. "Canadians are the same as British."

"Now see 'ere, that's not right at all, you ruddy frog..."

Hogan sighed and turned his back on the argument. "So who exactly are all these people?"

The Russian waved a hand to indicate the entire group of at least twenty men. "They are Russian agents. We heard the broadcast and came to here to be taken back to Russia to report to our superiors, of course."

Hogan leaned out to look at the approaching boat that now resembled a dingy more than a ship. "This might be a problem." He looked at the Russian and smiled. "You're gonna need a bigger boat."

* * *

End Fic

I hope you found all the lines easily! I had a lot of fun writing this.


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